


Magic

by ByTheDawn



Series: 300challenge [16]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:58:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the #300Challenge, based off of the title prompt. The unforeseen effects of mixing magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic

"Are you alright?" Mary-Margret's voice cut through Emma's reverie with the greatest of difficulties. Emma's mind had been somewhere else—partly with the map splayed out in front of her on the cold and humid stone in the colder and even more humid night-time air, partly with Henry himself as she watched the footsteps walk across the map, indicating that once more the basecamp had been moved, and a part of her was occupied by other things entirely. Storybrook, her childhood now dredged up again in her mind because of Pan's bloody mind games, her parents... and Regina. 

The latter one most certainly wasn't a voluntary thought on her part; she was quite happy to ignore the woman even on the best of days. And these most certainly were not the best of days. These were pretty much the worst of days; Henry had been kidnapped, she was camping with a pirate, her parents, and Regina in Neverland, Neal was God knows where, injured, and because of 'the fucking moment' most likely under the impression that they were back together, and Regina kept trying to verbally abuse her into a bad decision.

"I'm fine." She replied casually, shrugging off the concern of the woman whom she had once called her friend and with whom her relationship was now somewhere between awkward and painful. Neverland did bring out the truth, didn't it? She could read the pain in Mary-Margret's puffy eyes. 

"How are you holding up?" She asked, finding it easier to comfort Mary-Margret about the impending demise of her husband than to confront the thought that it was a matter of days before her biological father would be dead.

"Me? Oh... I... You know..." Mary-Margret tried. Then she just shrugged a shoulder and got up. "I'll be with your fa—Charming." She added, catching herself and making the situation even more awkward than just saying 'father' would have made it. Sighing, Emma turned to the fire, only to find two pairs of eyes firmly on her.

Regina was looking at her with a look she had trouble deciphering, but which sent shivers down her spine simply because of its intensity. She remembered that look vividly, but Regina wouldn't know that. Tinker Bell's look was one of bewilderment, but she hardly paid her any heed; her eyes locked and remained locked with the woman who had made her life a living hell—but who played a featured role in more restless dreams than Emma cared to admit. She shivered.

Regina's eyes were black pools in the flickering light of the fire. Those eyes had always been her betraying feature, Emma knew. Regina could lie, she could yell, she could pack a mean punch... but Regina could never hide what was in her eyes... and Emma preferred not to look. Because Regina's eyes weren't evil, Regina's eyes did not want to take her son from her, Regina's eyes did not hate her; especially not now. There was sorrow in those eyes, and a flicker of something far more personal. More, even, but Emma turned her head, realizing that she had to gasp for breath she hadn't sucked in during their exchange the second she did. Bewitching, those eyes. Bewitching and distracting and infuriatingly attractive. They brought back so many memories, all of which sent warmth flooding through her. Emma abruptly stood and walked off, so abruptly that her worried friend—mother—whatever called after her to ask if something was wrong.

"I'm just going to scout the area a bit. I'll be back." She called out without turning back for fear of catching Regina's eye again. She was blushing. "Fuck!" She cursed into the solitude of the jungle. 

"Fuck!" Saying it twice for good measure. What was Regina playing at this time? What was she planning? Was she going to magic Tinker Bell out of here and try a solo rescue mission? Was she trying to decide how to best get Emma to perform magic with her, as she had suggested before? The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine, a shiver she hid by whacking some shrubbery with her sword.

The truth was, magic was probably a bad way to get Henry—but if it didn't feel as sinfully good to mix her magic with Regina's, she most likely would have. If it wasn't something that caused weeks worth of Not Suitable For Work dreams and daydreams about the dark haired woman, she would have jumped at the chance to do something stupid in order to save Henry. But mixing their magic did cause that; she could feel her soul melting with Regina's every time she did it. Every time the energy went straight to her core. Every time she felt like she understood Regina a little better and every time their magic touched, her resistance towards the woman crumbled further. Even now, with everything that was going on, Emma had been having dreams of Regina; some were flashbacks of Regina's life, as if memories were transferred during the magical coupling, but most of her dreams revolved around the very specific sensations that the act of making magic brought forth in her—and she had always thought that was just a euphemism.

Realization dawned on Emma; that was why Regina was looking at her: she knew. Emma must have said something in her sleep or... or... Regina had gotten memories of Emma's fantasy dreams. Emma froze in the middle of cutting down a small tree. 

"Fuck!" she repeated, dejected this time. Regina had been looking at her because she figured out a weak point about Emma, because she had leverage, somehow. That's why she was smiling, why the two had been whispering. Emma's mind frantically came up with worst case scenarios; Hook knew, her parents knew—no, both would have said something. Alright, just Regina and Tinker Bell then, for now. So now what? Confront Regina? Threaten her? No, that wouldn't work. Emma's mind refused to picture best case scenarios where Regina wasn't out for revenge—scenarios which matched much better with the look she had just gotten over the campfire—scenarios where Regina did not mind these fantasies, maybe even had some of her own.

In the end, the answer was simple: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. She would just have to make sure Regina didn't have a reason to share this bit about Emma's life. They would just have to work together, get Henry and go home, there everything would resolve itself in the face of everyday life. She was just going to have to find out what, exactly, Regina knew and be nice to her until she could figure out a way for Regina to forget that Emma was hopelessly, irrevocably, passionately, attracted to Regina Mills, bane of her existence, adopted mother to her child and frequent highlight of her dreams—until she forgot it herself, because even kissing a damn pirate did nothing to quench her feelings and dreams.

Fuck her dreams, she mentally cursed as she surrendered to the inevitability of her situation. Fuck her feelings, and the perfect mess that was Regina-fucking-Mills… and most of all, fuck magic and what it had done to her. Yet, as she returned to the clearing, sneaking glances at the brunette as she talked with Tinker Bell, heads close together and a soft smile on both their faces, Emma couldn’t help but smile as well. Something that made you tingle so beautifully inside couldn’t be all bad, could it? Perhaps magic was a good thing after all, or it would at least lead to something good. It was about time for a little of that in Emma’s life, she realized—about damn time, indeed.


End file.
